16 Jun 2008


When psycho had not yet become -anal-ytic/
Long before the invention of words we talked with fingers and eyes
made our marks in dirt in sand the iron filings drawn to polarities of magnetic north
long before words of love the love of words was immanence of the desire to become essential/
Preoccupied with this being without knowing why or how to initiate vigilence
There was attachment to the other in her uniqueness and savage alterity/
similar in our otherness were we/ and have we/ become an I and a YOU?/
a we and a they a them and a there of elsewhere and no where at the limit
Lacking sanctioned plurality and complicity duplicity and lucidity
While there is no demand for reciprocity of ressentiment Nietzsche is everywhere
solitary figures dont look isolated merely left alone
Yr word not mine yr thought not mine I retain some traces of the fetish
Yr antagonism at running up against fallability of
pure sensation not converted yet into perception of deception
There remains the need for acknowledgment of autotelic pleasure
there is no thought of corruption without creation when death is a fact
a fluctuation in the pulse of the blood screaming for
the rhetoric of brutal resistence to definitives that betray and corrode
that erupt into a form of crime against the self anonymous until now
abandoned by the promise of a future of inconsequential pain
you are a true heritic of life in which desire
does not take for itself a particular object of redemptive morbidity
saturated as it were with the epidemic of resistence to suffocation
if death were really nothing but ceasing to be waste
to the sublimity of a hostile world of seductive subversions
but i did not see I was not there I could not know yr screem
which sees what it cannot articulate without repression of excess
excavating and expurgating with increasing intensity
I am a victimless crime of aural allegencies to the screech of the death drive
the fugative expectations of a sad longing to avoid aural contagion
affliction precedes and exceeds awareness of DogMan a mess of filth
vulnerability and arousal of violated flesh the paradox of fascism
in the world but not of the world our source of insanity is metabolic
the art of exact dosage and the over dose which is always fatal
you invent self destruction that has nothing to do with the cycle of life
lapsed memory a code falling into a gash of transient complexity/
What happened to this murmur of strangeness ?/you die incessantly ?/
of the extra the critical fragmented essence of eternal recurrance
how distracting is the noise of thought under hermenutics illusion
to excavate bodies made of tonal frequencies detached from conflict
The avoidance of ontologys totalizing grasps and whispers
There is no transcendence no waiting no saving no exhumation
No time of right final pleasure explaining in the last breath
On bed of dread nought the jargon of viscous intent was interrupted
Bread of stone seamans semen unheard washed away all her tears/
Only a spurt of orgastic verbal jissim karked from bony lip
Hardfaced collaborator shaved head pied noire sans culottes
Bricoleur sur Git le Coeur linguistic languish a deepening horror
Complex tangle of words all vowels of Rimbauds colours blackened/
that are emitted by the text of the residue of hysterical fixation
unable to be divested of its excessive anality and inanity its profanity
there is random interference and any number of sonic interruptions
a prior sounding of noise which makes absolute silence dissonant
resonate and resound with the intervals of the performing selves
avatars and justified subjugations and suspicions of accomplices
that all is not as it appears under the cynical power of the sigh
leaving the intolerant question of how to understand
what was not heard at first glance above the racket of
a certain failure of attention to read between the lines/


Anonymous said...

Thanks for twisting my head once again!

Lazare said...


cocaine jesus said...

Hey! Good stuff!

murmurists said...